Log: In which now there are two of them!
Date: Day 27, Month 7, Turn 23 of Interval 10
Summary: Taikrin has to pick up a package for the Greenfields bunch and deliver it to the Weyr. Turns out that package has a name: Jolie.
NorCon MUSH - 8/24/2010
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Dive Bar, Greenfields Hold(#1636R)
Despite the dirt, the dim lighting, and the obviously battle-scarred furniture, there is nothing overtly dangerous about the dive bar tucked against the corner of Greenfields proper. The main barroom is low-slung and windowless, and lit with flickering glows that seem to be perpetually in danger of guttering out entirely. A long, darkly stained and pitted bar stretches across one end of the room, complete with rickety stools that often play host to a set of rough-looking (and drunk) characters.
The rest of the room boasts a scattering of equally scarred round tables and oft-repaired chairs, filled with the same mix of gnarled laborers and somewhat disreputable young people in search of a quick thrill. Behind the bar is a shut door, which apparently leads to a set of storerooms and offices for the bar management types. There's a reek of spilled beer in the air, mixed with the sightly sour scent of sweat and the salty, greasy smell of the snacks brought in to appease the patrons.
Available Commands: +tp/help
Contents:
Jolie
Obvious exits:
Out
It is a summer night, 22:47 of day 27, month 7, turn 23 of Interval 10.
Night has long since fallen by the time Taikrin pushes her way into the bar. Despite the moderate crowd and dim lighting, she's conspicious in her riding gear and thus doesn't linger long by the entrance. Almost immediately she heads towards a dark table in the back, shoulders slightly hunched and with the look of someone not to be bothered: a look shared by many of the patrons nursing drinks at the bar. She takes a chair, flipping it around to straddle the seat and still have her back against the wall, and simply waits. No sooner has she sat down at the table, though, than she's greeted by a drink from a wordless waiter. Obviously, she's been noted.
It doesn't take long for that arrival to be noticed by those at the pitted bar - especially one who is in the process of downing the dark liquid that is currently in her mug. The wiry woman tracks Taikrin's arrival with narrowed eyes, the mug still halfway to her mouth before she watches the other straddle the chair. Once a waiter approaches, that's when she makes her move. Drink gets downed, mug gets set on the counter heavily before she swings her legs off the stool and gets to her feet. She throws marks on the counter as she goes, keeping her intense gaze on the lean woman as she slowly approaches. There's a heavy-looking backpack slung over one shoulder, and her long coat is fastened tightly about her person as if she was going on a trip.
A sardonic twist of the lips greets the waiter, and Taikrin makes rather a show of inspecting the drink before taking a sip. But that's all she does: sip. The vast majority of her attention is focused on scanning the room without /looking/ like she's scanning the room. Thus it is that she doesn't fail to spot Jolie's approach, though her sprawl atop the chair implies a total lack of concern. The only greeting she gives is a small raise of the glass in her hand, and a raised eyebrow.
Jolie's sharp glance goes to the wordless waiter as he passes by her, pausing in her steps for just a short moment before closing the last distance between her and Taikrin's table. She doesn't speak at first; she takes in the older woman's clothes, the way she's sprawled in the chair, and the way she raises the glass in her hand along with her expression. There's a slight brow lift, then Jolie's eyes meet her own. "You Taikrin?" she breaks the silence, putting on a cool stoic air with glimmers of curiosity laced in.
"Might just be," Taikrin gravels casually, a crooked grin twisting her lips. "Have a seat." She kicks the leg of one of the chairs on the other side of the small table. Now confident that the target has been marked, a line of tension noticibly fades, turning her feigned relaxation into a reality. "Some reason you lookin' for me, girl?"
When that chair infront of her gets kicked, Jolie deftly takes a step back involuntarily. Her grip on the backpack visibly tightens, along with the corners of her mouth. "Ya either are, or ya aren't," she's not quick to take the seat just yet, her dark eyes inspecting her clothes once again - as if any confirmation would be right /there/. The question delivered her way then pretty much confirmed her suspicions, so the young woman lets her backpack slide down her shoulder as she moves to drop herself into the offered seat. Once settled with her back against the against the chair, "Word is, you're my ride," she says in a clipped tone, continuing to inspect the other without no apology. With her backpack hitting the ground but not released, "Lookin' for a one-way into the Weyr. Was given your name." She's short on explanation, a brow lifting in askance now at the other for her response.
Jolie's reaction only deepens Taikrin's grin into an out-and-out smirk. "Yeah, yeah, don't getcher panties in a twist. How many people y'think got one of these?" With a quick twist of her hand, she flashes the brown-ribboned knot concealed by her jacket. "Jo-somethin' or other, ain'tcha?" All at once she tilts her head back, dumping the remainder of the brown liquid in her glass straight down her throat. "Ahh, yeah-- miss this stuff. S'the best." That finished, she straightens up against the chair, eyeing Jolie up and down as she does so. "So. Need a ride, do you? Reckon maybe we can fix that up. Y'know what yer doin' once you get there?"
Lips come together into a brief, severe line at the panties line, and Jolie's sardonic answer to all of that is, "It's Jolie. Jo. Either one. Hidin' that to keep your head down 'round here?" and she gestures with her jutting chin towards that knot now seen, some of the tension in her features ebbing now that such 'pleasantries', as they were, were exchanged. She watches that drink go down Taikrin's throat with open interest now, before she returns her study to her face. "I haven' seen ya around here before now," she probes idly, not letting off on her study, which, to an outsider, could /almost/ appear lecherous. But she's all business at the last, nodding once and firmly. "Got a decent hand at runnin' runners," she explains to what she could do once there, finally letting the bare glimmers of a smile filter through tight features. "It'll keep me out the way. Do what I do. The Weyr don't have too many nosy types, right?"
"/Yeah/, that's it, Jolie. Right. Terrible with names, me," Taikrin half-shrugs, apparently unconcerned. "Ain't hidin' it. Right people, they know who I am. Just, you know. Questions. Don't much feel like botherin' with 'em." Studying gaze is met with that same smirk and a quirked eyebrow. "I ain't /been/ around here much, last coupl'a turns. Things t'do, places t'be. Y'know how it is. Here now, though, lucky for you." She leans forward, resting her elbows on the chair's back. "Runners, eh? Might work, I guess. Know a couple kids what worked down there. Decent enough place. Nobody cares much about what goes down, seems like." Pause. "Got everythin' together, then?"
The smirk Jolie gives Taikrin is a little lopsided. "Pretty good with them," she notes on herself and remembering names. "Part of the training in Keogh." She pauses on other things said then, "I do know, how it is," she seems to agree with that statement, her gaze one of significance. "So I won't keep ya. I'm ready if you are," and her shoulder lifts along with the backpack in indication of it. She doesn't comment on the stables, but by the incline of her head at hearing that no one seems to care what goes on down there, it's clear that the young woman is pleased.
"Keogh, that right?" Taikrin remarks conversationally. "Knew a coupl'a folk from Keogh. Might be before your time, though." With another half-shrug, she dismissed that line of conversation entirely, choosing instead to roll smoothly back off of her chair and to her feet. "No rush or nothin', but if yer ready, we may as well get." There's a casual motion with her hand, she might just be stretching-- but then again, she might be signaling to the man tending the bar, given the fractional nod she receives in reply. "Right then. That all you got?" The backpack is eyed skeptically. "Not like yer gonna have room for stuff, but."
"Ya don' say," Jolie drawls, her head lifting to the side to pin an assessing look on Taikrin on talk of the Hold. "Hm. Might be. Got brothers that might be knowin' your folks, though." That's all she pursues for now, for the rider is getting to her feet and the convict is copying her in kind. She lifts the backpack over her shoulder once more, missing the motion - or probably disinterested - and instead cast a look around at any possible eavesdroppers that are close by. "Sooner I'm there, the better, ma'am," she says, patting her backpack twice with one hand. "Kinda lookin' forward to seein' this Weyr for myself. Never been 'round none of it, so..." there's a shrug for her explanation, seeming to couch her youthful curiosity in this new sort of adventure with toughness. "This all I got. Where I've been, didn' have the time or luxuries to be holdin' anymore than what I can carry. Ya know how it is," cuz surely, she must?
Taikrin knocks her chair back roughly into place with a kick to the leg, idly, before rounding the table. "It's big. You'll see. Ain't nothin' like you ever seen before." She speaks with the confidence of one who's been there, done that. "Just keep yer head down, you'll be fine." A quick glance around the room, and then Taikrin is heading towards the door, gesturing for Jolie to keep pace. "Reckon they might'a told you," she murmurs, low enough that the younger woman will have to be decently close to hear properly, "Don't wanna be hangin' around me too much. Cramp my style." Yeah, because it's likely /that's/ the reason Jolie has been given, and not that Taikrin has made some notable enemies and poor judgement calls.
Once Taikrin's on the move, Jolie's long strides put her beside the rider in short moments as she listens. "That's what I'm hopin'," she admits her hidden excitement to the other woman as they both head towards the door. "Need somethin'...new. Different. A change. Sounds like ya understand where I'm comin' from." Not a question, but a statement. The low murmurs get Jolie to sidle just a little closer as they walk, her eyes flicking over to the few men that dare look their way until she catches the bit on style. A lazy smirk steals out from the corner of her mouth, the younger woman sending Taikrin a pointed look while doing so. "Ya reckon correct," she agrees low, amusingly, on that point. "Dunno about style, though," and that look slides up and down the woman as she speaks. "Got too much style of my own that I'm keepin'. Don't worry about /that/." Riiight. The wryness of tone suggests she'll agree to that explanation, the incline of her head an easy one as Taikrin leads her out of the dive.
A short bark of laughter erupts at Jolie's comments on style, and the accompanying grin remains as Taikrin ushers her out the door and down an alleyway. "Yeah, well, maybe you might at that." A bit more seriously, she adds, "But watch who it is your smilin' at, at th'Weyr, unless y'know what y'might be gettin' yerself into. Never know who might be takin' y'/very/ seriously about what they think yer offerin'." The admonition comes with a particularly pointed look. "But anyways," she continues in lighter fashion as they round the last of the buildings on the outskirts. "Might look up a boy named Sho. Could be useful to you. Works in the stables too, I think." And as she rounds the final corner and heads to the field, something huge and builking comes into view, all color washed out in the pale light of the moons save for two pinpoints of whirling blue. "Szadath."
At that serious admonition, Jolie blinks once and almost looks taken aback by it. Following down into the alleyway, "And what is it you think /I/ would be offerin'?" she asks with casual air, the question so full of all that proud bravado as if she would know indeed what those at the Weyr would be offering with any smile of hers as she meets that pointed look unflinchingly. "And hey. I can take care of myself. How much harder can a Weyr be compared to being out /here/? Right?" She could be naive despite the proud tilt up of her chin as she walks with more purpose in her step. Once a name is dropped, "Sho, right," she nods on that, seeming to be putting it away to memory. Her lips part as if to ask something else when Szadath comes into view and causes her steps to slow up. She stares long and hard at the dragon, then at Taikrin as she recovers herself. Shifting, "Szadath," she repeats the name, seeming to try it on for size. "Impressive. Never really gotten up this close to one before."
As the brown lumbers forward, his unusual bulk emphasized by the double lighting of the moons, Taikrin's expression shifts slightly, revealing a piece of unguarded affection for the rumbling dragon. "He's bigger'n a lot of 'em, y'know," she remarks, unable or unwilling to keep the pride from her voice. "S'what I mean, though. Things're different. 'Cause of them, mostly, and 'cause of th'people who want t'be around 'em. You'll see. Just keep yer head down, don't get riled." Szadath lowers his head, eyeing Jolie out of one gleaming eye, then snorts. "Anyways, says y'seem all right but he's tired of bein' here, so best we go." She sidesteps around to the nearer shoulder, and with nary a hesitation swings herself up the straps. "Here, toss yer bag up, then I'll grab you." She leans out farther than would seem safe, one arm extended expectantly.
"Glad he thinks so," Jolie quips on Szadath's assesment of her as she closes the distance between them. She detects that note of pride in Taikrin's voice in any case, the convict regarding her in the ensuing silence before returning back to the dragon and speaking again. "Different. Well, I can handle different. I /should/ be able to handle different," she amends with a touch of dryness in tone. "Long as different's not bitin' me in the ass, I'm golden." The backpack gets tossed up, and with just a moment's hesitation, she's grabbing Taikrin's arm to be lifted up onto Szadath.
Taikrin grabs the pack without so much as a grunt, slinging it over her other shoulder before leaning back down to heft Jolie up behind her. "Don't worry, sure you'll be fine." There's some fumbling with the straps and an admonishment to hold on, complete with a slightly inappropriate wink: "But mind what yer holdin' on to!" but then Szadath is gathering himself up to make that first leap into the air. "Let's go!" is Jolie's only other warning before the dragon makes a tremendous effort and flings himself into the sky and then, a few wingbeats later, between. To the Weyr!
Once Jolie is settled with an omph of her rump to the dragon, arms grab onto Taikrin more for keeping her ontop of the dragon lest she should fall more than anything else as she sends a wide-eyed look over and down to the ground. An amused look goes to that wink once she settles against the rider securely, the snort likely to be lost the moment Szadath jumps into the air and effectively steals the breath from her lungs as they wink between.
>> Szadath disappears into *between*.
Between
There is nothing but darkness and bone-numbing cold here.
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...
>> Szadath arrives from *between*.
Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#250RJs)
The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north.
Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries.
Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
Contents:
Jolie
Szadath(#1824abe$0)
Obvious exits:
Living Cavern Inner Caverns Garden Patio Ledge Galleries Weyrleader Complex East Bowl Weyr Entrance
There is very little said as Szadath emerges from between and begins a tight spiral to the bowl floor-- the wind might carry a snatch or two of comment back to Jolie, but for the most part communication is pretty much impossible until the brown backwings not far from the bowl wall. "Aaand, we're home!" Taikrin twists in the straps to grin at Jolie, the wind-blown pink of her cheeks emphasizing her raw delight in the act of flying. "Let's get you down. Reckon you can bunk somewhere in th'open cavern tonight, get proper settled in by morning. Milani's who y'want t'look for, or maybe one of her assistants." She gestures expectantly, in the meanwhile, for Jolie to hop down; Szadath has a forearm conveniently placed for the act.
While Taikrin seems all for the euphoria of flying, there seems to be a different matter in regards to Jolie. Face composed like she had suddenly gotten hit by a wooden plank, she merely returns that look with a wided-eyed one of her own as she works on controlling her breathing down. Once she's able to speak and peels her tight hold from Taikrin's middle away and free - indication enough that she was terrified of the ordeal - "That's all this is?" she states on the flight, trying to make her voice sound a whole lot more composed than it is. She's definitely getting down, though, using the dragon's forearm to drop herself to the ground. Turning to get her backpack tossed down to her, "Whatever works, ma'am," is her non-commital response to sleeping arrangements, not seeming the least concerned where she ended up. "I'll seek this Milani out in the morning, first thing. And, ah....thanks." A nod goes towards Szadath. "The ride."
If Taikrin notices Jolie's discomfiture, she's gracious enough (amazingly) not to comment. Instead, she silently offers whatever assistance might be needed, then drops down Szadath's side herself to hand the pack over to the younger girl. "First flight?" She leans back against the brown's forearm, arms folding loosely across her chest. "No problem. Like I said. If y'/really/ got a problem, I'll be around. But, you know--" One hand gestures in the air as if to make a point. "-- sure you'll be fine. Living cavern's this one there. Y'can get breakfast in the morning. If y'go through there an' just follow it back, y'should get to the sleeping rooms. Just ask around, someone should point y'to a free bunk."
Once the pack is claimed and settled over one shoulder, Jolie takes the time to peer around her new surroundings with veiled interest. "First flight," she confirms, bringing her gaze back up to the older woman's. "It was....abrupt." Abrupt's probably the best word she could think of at the moment. "I gotcha, I'll look ya up if I do," she agrees on problems, sending Taikrin a tight dimpled smile before she's scoping out the area again. She looks towards the living cavern are indicated and sharply gestures with her chin in that direction, "That way? Cool. Guess I'll catch ya around then, Taikrin. Szadath." Names spoken and filed, the convict hefts up her backpack and prepares to be off towards the living cavern's direction.
Taikrin raises her hand in a curt wave, still kicked back against Szadath in a way that implies she might be there a while. "Sure, sure. Good luck, Jolie. Hope things, y'know, work out." The brown himself turns his head to watch the girl, eyes whirling slowly, before lowering his nose to nudge at Taikrin's side impatiently. "See you around."
There's a backhand wave before Jolie's looking over her shoulder at the rider pair with a lopsided grin. "Things will," she says that with confidence, Taikrin getting a wink full of mischief and trouble. "I bet marks on it. See ya around." With an incline of her head to both of them, the young convict woman turns and heads off across the bowl towards the caverns with the sure steps of one who belongs there rather than one who had just arrived at the Weyr moments before.
Summary: Taikrin has to pick up a package for the Greenfields bunch and deliver it to the Weyr. Turns out that package has a name: Jolie.
NorCon MUSH - 8/24/2010
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Dive Bar, Greenfields Hold(#1636R)
Despite the dirt, the dim lighting, and the obviously battle-scarred furniture, there is nothing overtly dangerous about the dive bar tucked against the corner of Greenfields proper. The main barroom is low-slung and windowless, and lit with flickering glows that seem to be perpetually in danger of guttering out entirely. A long, darkly stained and pitted bar stretches across one end of the room, complete with rickety stools that often play host to a set of rough-looking (and drunk) characters.
The rest of the room boasts a scattering of equally scarred round tables and oft-repaired chairs, filled with the same mix of gnarled laborers and somewhat disreputable young people in search of a quick thrill. Behind the bar is a shut door, which apparently leads to a set of storerooms and offices for the bar management types. There's a reek of spilled beer in the air, mixed with the sightly sour scent of sweat and the salty, greasy smell of the snacks brought in to appease the patrons.
Available Commands: +tp/help
Contents:
Jolie
Obvious exits:
Out
It is a summer night, 22:47 of day 27, month 7, turn 23 of Interval 10.
Night has long since fallen by the time Taikrin pushes her way into the bar. Despite the moderate crowd and dim lighting, she's conspicious in her riding gear and thus doesn't linger long by the entrance. Almost immediately she heads towards a dark table in the back, shoulders slightly hunched and with the look of someone not to be bothered: a look shared by many of the patrons nursing drinks at the bar. She takes a chair, flipping it around to straddle the seat and still have her back against the wall, and simply waits. No sooner has she sat down at the table, though, than she's greeted by a drink from a wordless waiter. Obviously, she's been noted.
It doesn't take long for that arrival to be noticed by those at the pitted bar - especially one who is in the process of downing the dark liquid that is currently in her mug. The wiry woman tracks Taikrin's arrival with narrowed eyes, the mug still halfway to her mouth before she watches the other straddle the chair. Once a waiter approaches, that's when she makes her move. Drink gets downed, mug gets set on the counter heavily before she swings her legs off the stool and gets to her feet. She throws marks on the counter as she goes, keeping her intense gaze on the lean woman as she slowly approaches. There's a heavy-looking backpack slung over one shoulder, and her long coat is fastened tightly about her person as if she was going on a trip.
A sardonic twist of the lips greets the waiter, and Taikrin makes rather a show of inspecting the drink before taking a sip. But that's all she does: sip. The vast majority of her attention is focused on scanning the room without /looking/ like she's scanning the room. Thus it is that she doesn't fail to spot Jolie's approach, though her sprawl atop the chair implies a total lack of concern. The only greeting she gives is a small raise of the glass in her hand, and a raised eyebrow.
Jolie's sharp glance goes to the wordless waiter as he passes by her, pausing in her steps for just a short moment before closing the last distance between her and Taikrin's table. She doesn't speak at first; she takes in the older woman's clothes, the way she's sprawled in the chair, and the way she raises the glass in her hand along with her expression. There's a slight brow lift, then Jolie's eyes meet her own. "You Taikrin?" she breaks the silence, putting on a cool stoic air with glimmers of curiosity laced in.
"Might just be," Taikrin gravels casually, a crooked grin twisting her lips. "Have a seat." She kicks the leg of one of the chairs on the other side of the small table. Now confident that the target has been marked, a line of tension noticibly fades, turning her feigned relaxation into a reality. "Some reason you lookin' for me, girl?"
When that chair infront of her gets kicked, Jolie deftly takes a step back involuntarily. Her grip on the backpack visibly tightens, along with the corners of her mouth. "Ya either are, or ya aren't," she's not quick to take the seat just yet, her dark eyes inspecting her clothes once again - as if any confirmation would be right /there/. The question delivered her way then pretty much confirmed her suspicions, so the young woman lets her backpack slide down her shoulder as she moves to drop herself into the offered seat. Once settled with her back against the against the chair, "Word is, you're my ride," she says in a clipped tone, continuing to inspect the other without no apology. With her backpack hitting the ground but not released, "Lookin' for a one-way into the Weyr. Was given your name." She's short on explanation, a brow lifting in askance now at the other for her response.
Jolie's reaction only deepens Taikrin's grin into an out-and-out smirk. "Yeah, yeah, don't getcher panties in a twist. How many people y'think got one of these?" With a quick twist of her hand, she flashes the brown-ribboned knot concealed by her jacket. "Jo-somethin' or other, ain'tcha?" All at once she tilts her head back, dumping the remainder of the brown liquid in her glass straight down her throat. "Ahh, yeah-- miss this stuff. S'the best." That finished, she straightens up against the chair, eyeing Jolie up and down as she does so. "So. Need a ride, do you? Reckon maybe we can fix that up. Y'know what yer doin' once you get there?"
Lips come together into a brief, severe line at the panties line, and Jolie's sardonic answer to all of that is, "It's Jolie. Jo. Either one. Hidin' that to keep your head down 'round here?" and she gestures with her jutting chin towards that knot now seen, some of the tension in her features ebbing now that such 'pleasantries', as they were, were exchanged. She watches that drink go down Taikrin's throat with open interest now, before she returns her study to her face. "I haven' seen ya around here before now," she probes idly, not letting off on her study, which, to an outsider, could /almost/ appear lecherous. But she's all business at the last, nodding once and firmly. "Got a decent hand at runnin' runners," she explains to what she could do once there, finally letting the bare glimmers of a smile filter through tight features. "It'll keep me out the way. Do what I do. The Weyr don't have too many nosy types, right?"
"/Yeah/, that's it, Jolie. Right. Terrible with names, me," Taikrin half-shrugs, apparently unconcerned. "Ain't hidin' it. Right people, they know who I am. Just, you know. Questions. Don't much feel like botherin' with 'em." Studying gaze is met with that same smirk and a quirked eyebrow. "I ain't /been/ around here much, last coupl'a turns. Things t'do, places t'be. Y'know how it is. Here now, though, lucky for you." She leans forward, resting her elbows on the chair's back. "Runners, eh? Might work, I guess. Know a couple kids what worked down there. Decent enough place. Nobody cares much about what goes down, seems like." Pause. "Got everythin' together, then?"
The smirk Jolie gives Taikrin is a little lopsided. "Pretty good with them," she notes on herself and remembering names. "Part of the training in Keogh." She pauses on other things said then, "I do know, how it is," she seems to agree with that statement, her gaze one of significance. "So I won't keep ya. I'm ready if you are," and her shoulder lifts along with the backpack in indication of it. She doesn't comment on the stables, but by the incline of her head at hearing that no one seems to care what goes on down there, it's clear that the young woman is pleased.
"Keogh, that right?" Taikrin remarks conversationally. "Knew a coupl'a folk from Keogh. Might be before your time, though." With another half-shrug, she dismissed that line of conversation entirely, choosing instead to roll smoothly back off of her chair and to her feet. "No rush or nothin', but if yer ready, we may as well get." There's a casual motion with her hand, she might just be stretching-- but then again, she might be signaling to the man tending the bar, given the fractional nod she receives in reply. "Right then. That all you got?" The backpack is eyed skeptically. "Not like yer gonna have room for stuff, but."
"Ya don' say," Jolie drawls, her head lifting to the side to pin an assessing look on Taikrin on talk of the Hold. "Hm. Might be. Got brothers that might be knowin' your folks, though." That's all she pursues for now, for the rider is getting to her feet and the convict is copying her in kind. She lifts the backpack over her shoulder once more, missing the motion - or probably disinterested - and instead cast a look around at any possible eavesdroppers that are close by. "Sooner I'm there, the better, ma'am," she says, patting her backpack twice with one hand. "Kinda lookin' forward to seein' this Weyr for myself. Never been 'round none of it, so..." there's a shrug for her explanation, seeming to couch her youthful curiosity in this new sort of adventure with toughness. "This all I got. Where I've been, didn' have the time or luxuries to be holdin' anymore than what I can carry. Ya know how it is," cuz surely, she must?
Taikrin knocks her chair back roughly into place with a kick to the leg, idly, before rounding the table. "It's big. You'll see. Ain't nothin' like you ever seen before." She speaks with the confidence of one who's been there, done that. "Just keep yer head down, you'll be fine." A quick glance around the room, and then Taikrin is heading towards the door, gesturing for Jolie to keep pace. "Reckon they might'a told you," she murmurs, low enough that the younger woman will have to be decently close to hear properly, "Don't wanna be hangin' around me too much. Cramp my style." Yeah, because it's likely /that's/ the reason Jolie has been given, and not that Taikrin has made some notable enemies and poor judgement calls.
Once Taikrin's on the move, Jolie's long strides put her beside the rider in short moments as she listens. "That's what I'm hopin'," she admits her hidden excitement to the other woman as they both head towards the door. "Need somethin'...new. Different. A change. Sounds like ya understand where I'm comin' from." Not a question, but a statement. The low murmurs get Jolie to sidle just a little closer as they walk, her eyes flicking over to the few men that dare look their way until she catches the bit on style. A lazy smirk steals out from the corner of her mouth, the younger woman sending Taikrin a pointed look while doing so. "Ya reckon correct," she agrees low, amusingly, on that point. "Dunno about style, though," and that look slides up and down the woman as she speaks. "Got too much style of my own that I'm keepin'. Don't worry about /that/." Riiight. The wryness of tone suggests she'll agree to that explanation, the incline of her head an easy one as Taikrin leads her out of the dive.
A short bark of laughter erupts at Jolie's comments on style, and the accompanying grin remains as Taikrin ushers her out the door and down an alleyway. "Yeah, well, maybe you might at that." A bit more seriously, she adds, "But watch who it is your smilin' at, at th'Weyr, unless y'know what y'might be gettin' yerself into. Never know who might be takin' y'/very/ seriously about what they think yer offerin'." The admonition comes with a particularly pointed look. "But anyways," she continues in lighter fashion as they round the last of the buildings on the outskirts. "Might look up a boy named Sho. Could be useful to you. Works in the stables too, I think." And as she rounds the final corner and heads to the field, something huge and builking comes into view, all color washed out in the pale light of the moons save for two pinpoints of whirling blue. "Szadath."
At that serious admonition, Jolie blinks once and almost looks taken aback by it. Following down into the alleyway, "And what is it you think /I/ would be offerin'?" she asks with casual air, the question so full of all that proud bravado as if she would know indeed what those at the Weyr would be offering with any smile of hers as she meets that pointed look unflinchingly. "And hey. I can take care of myself. How much harder can a Weyr be compared to being out /here/? Right?" She could be naive despite the proud tilt up of her chin as she walks with more purpose in her step. Once a name is dropped, "Sho, right," she nods on that, seeming to be putting it away to memory. Her lips part as if to ask something else when Szadath comes into view and causes her steps to slow up. She stares long and hard at the dragon, then at Taikrin as she recovers herself. Shifting, "Szadath," she repeats the name, seeming to try it on for size. "Impressive. Never really gotten up this close to one before."
As the brown lumbers forward, his unusual bulk emphasized by the double lighting of the moons, Taikrin's expression shifts slightly, revealing a piece of unguarded affection for the rumbling dragon. "He's bigger'n a lot of 'em, y'know," she remarks, unable or unwilling to keep the pride from her voice. "S'what I mean, though. Things're different. 'Cause of them, mostly, and 'cause of th'people who want t'be around 'em. You'll see. Just keep yer head down, don't get riled." Szadath lowers his head, eyeing Jolie out of one gleaming eye, then snorts. "Anyways, says y'seem all right but he's tired of bein' here, so best we go." She sidesteps around to the nearer shoulder, and with nary a hesitation swings herself up the straps. "Here, toss yer bag up, then I'll grab you." She leans out farther than would seem safe, one arm extended expectantly.
"Glad he thinks so," Jolie quips on Szadath's assesment of her as she closes the distance between them. She detects that note of pride in Taikrin's voice in any case, the convict regarding her in the ensuing silence before returning back to the dragon and speaking again. "Different. Well, I can handle different. I /should/ be able to handle different," she amends with a touch of dryness in tone. "Long as different's not bitin' me in the ass, I'm golden." The backpack gets tossed up, and with just a moment's hesitation, she's grabbing Taikrin's arm to be lifted up onto Szadath.
Taikrin grabs the pack without so much as a grunt, slinging it over her other shoulder before leaning back down to heft Jolie up behind her. "Don't worry, sure you'll be fine." There's some fumbling with the straps and an admonishment to hold on, complete with a slightly inappropriate wink: "But mind what yer holdin' on to!" but then Szadath is gathering himself up to make that first leap into the air. "Let's go!" is Jolie's only other warning before the dragon makes a tremendous effort and flings himself into the sky and then, a few wingbeats later, between. To the Weyr!
Once Jolie is settled with an omph of her rump to the dragon, arms grab onto Taikrin more for keeping her ontop of the dragon lest she should fall more than anything else as she sends a wide-eyed look over and down to the ground. An amused look goes to that wink once she settles against the rider securely, the snort likely to be lost the moment Szadath jumps into the air and effectively steals the breath from her lungs as they wink between.
>> Szadath disappears into *between*.
Between
There is nothing but darkness and bone-numbing cold here.
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...
>> Szadath arrives from *between*.
Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#250RJs)
The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north.
Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries.
Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
Contents:
Jolie
Szadath(#1824abe$0)
Obvious exits:
Living Cavern Inner Caverns Garden Patio Ledge Galleries Weyrleader Complex East Bowl Weyr Entrance
There is very little said as Szadath emerges from between and begins a tight spiral to the bowl floor-- the wind might carry a snatch or two of comment back to Jolie, but for the most part communication is pretty much impossible until the brown backwings not far from the bowl wall. "Aaand, we're home!" Taikrin twists in the straps to grin at Jolie, the wind-blown pink of her cheeks emphasizing her raw delight in the act of flying. "Let's get you down. Reckon you can bunk somewhere in th'open cavern tonight, get proper settled in by morning. Milani's who y'want t'look for, or maybe one of her assistants." She gestures expectantly, in the meanwhile, for Jolie to hop down; Szadath has a forearm conveniently placed for the act.
While Taikrin seems all for the euphoria of flying, there seems to be a different matter in regards to Jolie. Face composed like she had suddenly gotten hit by a wooden plank, she merely returns that look with a wided-eyed one of her own as she works on controlling her breathing down. Once she's able to speak and peels her tight hold from Taikrin's middle away and free - indication enough that she was terrified of the ordeal - "That's all this is?" she states on the flight, trying to make her voice sound a whole lot more composed than it is. She's definitely getting down, though, using the dragon's forearm to drop herself to the ground. Turning to get her backpack tossed down to her, "Whatever works, ma'am," is her non-commital response to sleeping arrangements, not seeming the least concerned where she ended up. "I'll seek this Milani out in the morning, first thing. And, ah....thanks." A nod goes towards Szadath. "The ride."
If Taikrin notices Jolie's discomfiture, she's gracious enough (amazingly) not to comment. Instead, she silently offers whatever assistance might be needed, then drops down Szadath's side herself to hand the pack over to the younger girl. "First flight?" She leans back against the brown's forearm, arms folding loosely across her chest. "No problem. Like I said. If y'/really/ got a problem, I'll be around. But, you know--" One hand gestures in the air as if to make a point. "-- sure you'll be fine. Living cavern's this one there. Y'can get breakfast in the morning. If y'go through there an' just follow it back, y'should get to the sleeping rooms. Just ask around, someone should point y'to a free bunk."
Once the pack is claimed and settled over one shoulder, Jolie takes the time to peer around her new surroundings with veiled interest. "First flight," she confirms, bringing her gaze back up to the older woman's. "It was....abrupt." Abrupt's probably the best word she could think of at the moment. "I gotcha, I'll look ya up if I do," she agrees on problems, sending Taikrin a tight dimpled smile before she's scoping out the area again. She looks towards the living cavern are indicated and sharply gestures with her chin in that direction, "That way? Cool. Guess I'll catch ya around then, Taikrin. Szadath." Names spoken and filed, the convict hefts up her backpack and prepares to be off towards the living cavern's direction.
Taikrin raises her hand in a curt wave, still kicked back against Szadath in a way that implies she might be there a while. "Sure, sure. Good luck, Jolie. Hope things, y'know, work out." The brown himself turns his head to watch the girl, eyes whirling slowly, before lowering his nose to nudge at Taikrin's side impatiently. "See you around."
There's a backhand wave before Jolie's looking over her shoulder at the rider pair with a lopsided grin. "Things will," she says that with confidence, Taikrin getting a wink full of mischief and trouble. "I bet marks on it. See ya around." With an incline of her head to both of them, the young convict woman turns and heads off across the bowl towards the caverns with the sure steps of one who belongs there rather than one who had just arrived at the Weyr moments before.